Sir Boast A Lot's Final Problem
by chimingofthebells
Summary: Sir Boast a Lot was the bravest and cleverest knight in the round table. The knights are preparing for battle with the mysterious army led by a man named Moriarty. A man named James arrives at Camelot and threatens to destroy Sir Holmes' reputation. Please R&R!
1. James arrives

It was a hot, humid day in Camelot It was the kind of heat that drains a person of all energy, with little motivation to do anything but lie in the shade and pray for rain. On this day, the only thing on the minds of King Arthur's knights was beer and a cool bath. Unfortunately, the knights had orders to practice their fighting skills, so they had to spend the day out in the training fields in full armor, working tirelessly with their swords and fists, sweating and panting under the glaring heat of the sun.

One knight was having trouble, practicing his skills against dragons. He wielded his sword high, feet apart, and stared hard at the small but strong training dragon at the other end of the field. Both creatures stood perfectly still, knees bent, neither breaking eye contact. The dragon's golden scales glinted in the bright afternoon sunlight. It's claws dug into the dirt and its teeth bared, mouth twisting into a menacing snarl. The knight's eyes narrowed, twisting his hand around the hilt of his sword, shifting his shield closer to his body. The dragon emitted a loud roar and charged at full speed, racing towards the knight. As it ran, the heavy iron chain that was attached to its collar flapped behind it, clanking noisily. The knight lifted his sword higher, bracing himself against the great scaly creature bearing down upon him. Just as he was about to drive his weapon into the beast's heart, there was a shout and a blur of silver.

Before the knight knew what was happening, the dragon lay in the grass in a helpless heap, with somebody else's sword protruding from the poor creature's shoulder. "That dragon nearly got you, didn't it, Sir Anderson? The heat must be getting to you, perhaps you should take a break before you hurt yourself." said the figure standing over the creature.

Anderson spluttered in disbelief. "Sir Holmes, that was completely unnecessary! That's the fourth time today that you've taken one of my kills!" he exclaimed indignantly. True, the heat combined with the weight of all the armor was putting him off his senses, but no reason for anyone to know that.

"Calm down, you would have been mincemeat if I hadn't gotten this beast in time. You should be grateful." Sir Holmes stood up to his full height to tower over the other knight, wearing a smirk on his pale face. "Remember, I have led more battles than you. King Arthur himself comes to me for help more often than he does you, and there's a reason for that."

"If you're implying that you're a better knight than me-" Sir Anderson began, but he was cut off by Sir Holmes' deep baritone voice.

"Oh no, I'm not implying anything. All I'm saying is that I have slain countless beasts and rescues an endless number of damsels in distress, and the amount that you have can be counted on one hand." The tall knight bent down to extract his sword from the pitiful form of the dragon. Wiping it in the grass, he turned to Sir Anderson and said "Perhaps if you observed my techniques a bit more closely you might hope to achieve half of my greatness, though I highly doubt that." he then turned and walked towards the archery area, leaving Sir Anderson fuming behind him.

That night, Sir Holmes sat in the dining hall, sipping on a large mug of beer with his feet up in the table. His voice echoed around the stone walls of the room as he loudly told yet another story about yet another village he had rescued from attackers. One hand waved enthusiastically in the air, his voice rising excitedly as he spoke. His voice boomed as he regaled how he had cleverly figured out the bandits' plan, his eyes staring off into space, lost in his own words. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan sat at the table, exchanging annoyed glances and dramatic sighs of exasperation. They had lost track of how many stories Sir Holmes had told them, as they had stopped listening long ago. They let him carry on talking to themselves while they sipped at their drinks and waited for the king to arrive.

Finally the doors burst open and King Lestrade strode into the room, flanked by a pair of guards. All of the knights, even sir Holmes, quieted and sat at attention. They waited in respectful silence as the King took his seat at the head of the table. From the grim way his face fell, the knights could tell that tonight's meeting held grave news.

King Lestrade inhaled deeply, then spoke.

"Knights, we must increase our training. There have been reports of outsiders sighted among the outlying villages. Whoever they are are not from this kingdom, and surely they mean to overthrow me from the throne and take over Camelot. They have already burned down the village of Tarus. There was only one survivor, a teenage girl. She was found wandering the woods, covered in scorch marks. She told us that the only reason that they let her live was so that she could deliver a message to me: That Moriarty's army are coming, and will stop at nothing to get what they want. These men are few, and we know very little about them. We know they're dangerous, and we must be ready for them."

Sir Holmes spoke up from the far side of the table. "What do we know about these men so far?"

"We know that they are foreign. There are very few of them, maybe as little as twenty men. Though they are few in numbers, their skill and cunning make them extremely dangerous. And they are all loyal to their leader."

"Who's their leader?" Inquired Lady Donovan.

"Some man named Moriarty. He must be from far away, otherwise we would have heard of him. He's powerful, very powerful. We must be ready, we don't know when he will attack. Increase your training and keep your eyes open for suspicious behavior. Any questions?"

Silence.

"Then the court is dismissed. We start early tomorrow." the Knights bowed their heads briefly to the King and filed from the room, muttering to each other about this new information.

"What kind of a man can this be? He can't be that powerful, if we've never heard of him." Said Lady Donovan. Sir Anderson shook his head.

"You heard the king. He's already killed an entire village, he's obviously dangerous. We've got to be ready for him."

"Don't worry, Anderson!" Holmes' voice interrupted the conversation. "This man might be dangerous, but I'm sure I can handle them!"

"You mean 'we,'" Said Anderson halfheartedly, knowing full well that Sir Holmes meant every word he said.

"Well, I'm sure you and the other knights will fight, but you won't be of much use. You're all idiots anyways, perhaps it would be better if I faced them on my own when the time comes." Lady Donovan rolled her eyes. "Oh don't give me that look, Donovan, you know you need me. If it weren't for my superior strength and intellect this kingdom would be in ruins."

"It's not all you, though!" Donovan said indignantly. "The rest of the knights and myself are perfectly capable and necessary to this kingdom! If it weren't for us, you would be nothing!"

"Yeah," agreed Anderson. "We aren't idiots, otherwise we wouldn't be knights."

"If it makes you feel better, you can tell yourself that. Just remember who Kind Lestrade goes to first for advice."  
Sir Holmes smirked and strode off, leaving Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan fuming behind him.

The next evening found Anderson and Donovan leaning against the stables, exhausted after a long day of tiring training. King Lestrade had doubled the amount of work they were to do in preparation for Moriarty's army, and many of the knights were so tired that they could barely stand. Anderson and Donovan leaned against the stables, passing a canteen of water between them, panting heavily. The day was as hot as before, and they were sweating in their armor. The sun was beginning to set, dying the sky brilliant shades of pink and orange.

The two knights stood in silence as they watched evening fall over the courtyard. The business of the day was slowing, and all of the other knights were beginning to leave, sauntering off to their homes or to the tavern. Sir Holmes sat on the opposite side from them, polishing his sword. Soon the courtyard was empty, and it was just the two of them and Holmes in the growing darkness. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan enjoyed each others' presence, neither feeling the immediate need to say anything. All that could be heard was the shuffling sound of horses and the light breeze.

Suddenly, they detected movement coming from the entrance to the courtyard. The two exchanged glances and turned to the movement. As they watched, a man stumbled into the courtyard. He appeared to be out of breath, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. Sir Holmes glanced up from polishing his sword, then returned to his work, deciding that this man wasn't worth his interest. Anderson and Donovan rushed forward.

As they reached him, the man sat down on the cobblestones. Anderson called out to him as he approached.

"Hello. And who are you?"

The man was about the same age as Sir Anderson, perhaps a few years younger. His boyish face was topped with a mop of messy brown hair. He wore relatively good clothing that was a bit worn around the edges. He looked up when he was spoken to.

"My name is James, I come from the village of Harrow." He pulled himself up off the ground and offered his hand.

"I am Sir Anderson and this is the Lady Donovan," Said Anderson, taking it. "What business do you have here?"

"I heard of Moriarty's army and I came here to help fight. I have encountered this man before and I know Camelot will need as much help as they can get."

"You wish to fight?" said Lady Donovan. "But you aren't a knight! Only the knights of Camelot can go to battle."

"I have encountered Moriarty once before. When I was young he attacked my village, showing no mercy. He and his men not only possessed more strength than I have ever encountered, but they were clever and cunning as well. He has a way of getting into people's heads, and his men are loyal to the end. I may not be a knight, but Camelot will need every man fighting if it wants to survive." The two knights exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed.

"Perhaps you can speak with the king and beg him to allow you to fight. But he'll have retired to bed now, you will have to wait until morning." Said Lady Donovan. James nodded.

"Very well, I will do that. Until then, is there somewhere to stay the night?" The two knights nodded and directed him to the inn. James thanked them and bid them farewell. When he was gone, Anderson and Donovan walked together towards their houses.

"He seemed like a nice enough man. Do you think he'll be allowed to fight?"

"I'm not sure. He's willing, and if the King is desperate enough, he probably will let him. He's right, we do need every man fighting." Said Anderson.

"Yeah," agreed Donovan. "But there's something about that man, something I couldn't quite put my finger on."

"Like what?" Donovan was silent for a moment.

"I'm not sure. I just got this uneasy feeling from him. I wouldn't trust him just yet."


	2. Doubt

James stood in the throne room, standing before the king, hands clasped behind his back. He stood nervously as he waited for the king to speak. King Lestrade sat on his throne, one hand on his chin, contemplating the man before him. The silence in the room grew as James awaited a response to his proposal.

He turned and glanced at Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan, standing side by side at the back of the room. Anderson gave an encouraging nod and Donovan smiled, crossing her arms. James smiled back and his eyes fell upon another knight standing alone in the corner. Sir Holmes was staring at him, eyes narrowed, his mouth turning into a frown as his mind worked furiously. James furrowed his brows at him before turning back to face the front of the room.

Finally the King spoke. "Your proposal is very interesting. By law the only men who can fight in battle are the knights of Camelot, and you are not a knight, nor can you ever be one because you are not a nobleman. However, you are correct when you say that we will need fighters. You say you have met with Moriarty before, so perhaps you will be able to help us. Therefore, I will allow you to fight on Camelot's behalf just this once. You will not be a knight, but simply a soldier. Once Moriarty has been defeated you will no longer able to battle."

A relieved grin spread across James' face. "Thank you, sire!" He exclaimed, bowing deeply. "You shall not regret this! I will do all that I can to defend Camelot!" He bowed again and walked quickly from the room.

Sir Holmes watched the man leave the room, frowning deeply in frustration. He hadn't thought much of the man when he had first seen him in the courtyard the night before, but now that he had a proper look at him he knew something wasn't right. There was something about this man that made Holmes not want to trust him. Who was this man, who mysteriously showed up from a small village? Holmes had heard of the villages downfall some years earlier, when he was seventeen. The small village had been attacked by foreign men, who burned, robbed, and killed for seemingly no reason. The attackers had never been caught. Was it true that they were Moriarty's army? If so, why hadn't James come sooner?

Holmes growled to himself and followed James from the room, determined to find out more about this man. James walked with a bounce in his step as he made his way towards the armory. Once inside, he began to examine the racks of swords, determining which to use as his own. Holmes entered the room silently, hoping to avoid detection. James hummed lightly as he unsheathed a sword and held it in the light from the window, testing its balance. Then he grinned and whirled around to face Holmes.

"So, are you following me?" He said, waving the sword in the direction of the knight. Sir Holmes straightened up and faced him.

"I merely wanted to offer my congratulations," he said. "Not many can convince King Lestrade to fight when he isn't a nobleman. In all my time here I have only seen that done once."

"Oh really?" said James, sticking the sword into the ground and leaning against it. "And who did that?"

"Me," said Sir Holmes simply.

"Really!" Said James, raising his eyebrows. "You aren't a nobleman, and yet you're a knight? How did you manage that?"

"My level of skill and expertise far exceeds that of his other knights. Without me Camelot would have fallen long ago."

"My my, you must be brave," Mused James, regarding Sir Holmes with interest. "Come to think of it, your name isn't Sir Holmes by any chance, is it?"

"Yes, it is," Confirmed the knight.

"Yes, I _have _heard of you!" James grinned. "Stories of your bravery are told through out the kingdom! I've heard a lot about you. I should be glad to fight alongside you when the day comes."

Sir Holmes did not respond, simply nodded.

"Well, I better be off," said James, and with that, he put the sword back in its place and strode from the armory, stifling a smirk.

Once outside, he saw Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan striding towards him. He raised a hand and went to meet them.

"Congratulations!" said Anderson, smiling. "I knew the king would let you fight!"

James grinned. "I was nervous. For a while I thought he was going to send me away."

"Well I'm glad you'll be fighting with us. Lady Donovan and I were just off to the tavern, care to join us?" James nodded and smiled, and the three of them walked off to the tavern.

The trio sat together at a table in the corner, hugging mugs of mead and laughing with each other. As they exchanged background stories, Sir Anderson started to smile. He was liking this mysterious man, and he hoped he would stay after this whole Moriarty fiasco was over. Lady Donovan smiled too, beginning to think that she had been wrong about him. She laughed and spoke with him easily and soon forgot that she ever doubted him when they first met.

After a few hours and lots of mead, the conversation turned to the subject of Sir Holmes.

"He seemed a bit full of himself," said James, telling the other two of their conversation in the armory. "He said that his skill and expertise 'far exceeded that of the rest of the knights."

Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan rolled their eyes simultaneously. "He would say that wouldn't he?"

"Of course he's full of himself," Said Anderson. "He seems to think he's the best knight ever to grace the face of this planet."

"I have heard many stories about him," Said James thoughtfully.

"Of course you have. He's the one who tells all those stories in the first place. The person who talks about Sir Holmes the most is Sir Holmes," Said Lady Donovan bitterly. "He's always going on about himself. He never seems to shut up about how brave he is and how many dragons he's slain. It gets so...so..."

"Irritating?" Supplied James. Donovan nodded. "Well, if Sir Holmes is the one who tells those stories, then the question is, is Sir Holmes being entirely truthful?"

Anderson and Donovan's eyes went wide. "Are you saying that Holmes is lying about all his stories?" said Anderson in disbelief. James took a sip of his drink.

"Well, think about it. He's always the first to tell the stories, so who's to say he doesn't make up a few of the details? I mean, he always says he was alone, so nobody actually was there to witness what happened..." James trailed off. "But I'm just musing. I'm not suggesting he's a liar, he seems like a just man."

"No, that makes sense," Said Donovan thoughtfully. "Most of his stories take place far from Camelot, but he's always here showing off. If he's here, how can he be off doing all those things?"

"Well, I'm sure he's not here _all _the time, perhaps during breaks or at night," suggested James. "Plus, it's not as if the King appointed him randomly. Only the best become knights, and only the best of the best can be knighted without being noblemen."

"No, you're right!" said Sir Anderson. "He isn't a nobleman! He must have tricked King Lestrade somehow. There's no way he could have done all of those things! No man is that strong! It would be impossible!"

"Oh dear, I shouldn't have said that," Said James. "I wouldn't want to turn you against Sir Holmes. He seemed a nice enough man, even if he seemed a bit full of himself. I'm sure he would never lie like that."

But it was too late- the damage had been done. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan stared at each other in bewilderment at this newfound discovery. James looked between the two nervously.

"Well, it's getting late, I think I should turn in." James stood up. "I'll see you in the morning for training. Goodnight, friends." the other two bid him goodnight as he left the tavern.

The next morning, the knights were out in the courtyard for another day of rigorous training. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan fought together, practicing their footwork. The sound of their clashing swords rang out in the sunny mid-morning air. Sir Holmes slashed at a dummy, forced to practice alone because none of the other knights wished to fight with him due to his ever-present stream of insults.

Sir Holmes' face was screwed up in concentration as he thrust his sword forward again and again, until a voice heard behind him made him pause.

"Nice swordwork." He turned around to see James standing there, dressed in full armor. "I'd love to practice with you."

"Why would you want to practice with me?" Asked Sir Holmes.

"I want to learn from the best, and from what I can see, that's you." James grinned and brandished his sword."Besides, I'm sure I can beat you."

That had Sir Holmes' attention. "Do you really think so?"

The other man's smile grew wider. "I know I can."

Holmes regarded him doubtfully, then attacked, bringing his sword down. James blocked Holmes' sword with his own, and the two were off, swords clashing furiously. The sound attracted the attention of all the other knights in the courtyard and they all stopped to watch as the two battled together.

A minute passed, then two, and the other knight's began to cheer for James. Nobody had ever battled this long with Sir Holmes before. Usually Holmes had his opponent on the ground begging for mercy within thirty seconds.

Finally, a sword flew out of a hand and a knight was on his back, a foot on his chest and a sword at his throat. He looked up. James smiled down at him. As the other knights cheered, he said in a voice so low that only Holmes could hear, "I win."

He extended an arm to help him up, but Holmes refused, choosing to pull himself off the ground. "The stories weren't wrong about you, you really are an expert swordsman," said James. "But even the best can be beaten." He smirked and strode off, leaving Sir Holmes standing for once at a loss for words.

That evening, Sir Holmes was removing his armor and hanging it up when Sir Anderson walked in accompanied by Lady Donovan. At first Holmes payed them no attention, but from their silence he could tell they were there to talk to him. So he turned to see them regarding him with narrowed eyes.

"Are you two waiting for me to leave or are you just going to start shagging right here?" The other two knights brush off the comment, used to the constant flow of them that they received almost daily.

"What kind of a man are you?" asked Lady Donovan coldly.

"What do you mean, Sally?" said Holmes.

"What kind of a man would make up such extravagant stories just to make himself look good? What ever happened to humility, huh?" Donovan said, trying to ignore his use of her first name. Only Sir Anderson was allowed to call her that. Holmes raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't act so surprised," said Sir Anderson. "You can't have expected to get away with it for very long. Eventually people would have realized that those things are impossible. There aren't even that many Dragons left in the kingdom!"

"That's because I killed them all," Said Sir Holmes coolly. "Remember that King Lestrade trusts me more than any of the other knights put together, and that's not for nothing. I am many things, Anderson, but a liar is not one of them. Do try to think before you accuse me of such things. But don't think too hard or else you'll hurt yourself." He attempted to walk from the room at that moment, but Anderson and Donovan moved to block his exit. He looked down at them with annoyance.

"We're not gonna let this go on," Said Lady Donovan with a cold smirk. "We've caught you. But we're going to give you a chance. Stop making up stories and we won't tell anyone that they aren't true."

"They are true," growled Sir Holmes, trying to push past them.

"You can stop the act, we know the real truth. Stop telling your stories."

Holmes looked down on them furiously for a moment, then blinked and regained his composure. He straightened up and pushed in between the two knights, striding away from them with his head held high.

Standing in the shadows, James watched Holmes walk away with a smirk on his face. His plan to bring down Holmes was falling in to place. Turning and walking in the opposite direction, his smirk grew into a full grin. Nobody would suspect him, because he wasn't trying to overthrow King Lestrade. James couldn't care less about the throne, he had an empire of his own. No, James Moriarty was in Camelot for one purpose: To destroy Sir Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll have chapter three up soon, until then, reviews are always welcome!**


	3. Holmes denies

The sun rose, sending brilliant rays of light through the early morning fog. The dew glistened in the light, tiny droplets of moisture clinging to the grass and the trees. Most of Camelot had yet to wake up, and the place was still. Birds sang joyfully as they awoke from their slumber. In the peaceful morning stillness, the sound of clashing metal could be heard.

Sir Holmes was the first one awake, up hours before everyone else, as always. He stood in the training courtyard by himself, angrily slashing a sword at a dummy. He brought the weapon down again and again, sending fabric and bits of hay stuffing in all directions. He worked quickly, breathing heavily. Suddenly, his ears alerted him to approaching footsteps, but he did not pause his swordwork.

The new presence did not make themselves known at first, instead opting to stand and observe the knight. Sir Holmes hacked and slashed and finally took off the dummy's head with one wide swing. He stood, looking down on the dummy's helmet as it rolled away and finally clattered to a stop. Finally he turned to face the newcomer.

"Your skill hasn't decreased a bit since yesterday," James murmured with one corner of his mouth turned up.

"Practice makes perfect, isn't that how the saying goes?" Holmes replied, placing his sword in its sheath by his side.

"You have been practicing, certainly, but I wouldn't call you perfect just yet, despite all your stories. After all, you were beaten by me." Holmes scowled briefly at this reminder, before his face fell into his usual emotionless expression. "I can see you're still sore about that, eh Sherlock? You don't have to worry, the trouble has just begun for you. I've given you a teensy glimpse of what's coming to you. I will defeat you just like I did in training yesterday."

Holmes narrowed his eyes. "Why would you want to defeat me?" he asked.

"For the same reason you fight all the time," James replied, a touch of venom added to his bored tone. "Because I'm bored. You've presented a worthy distraction. I can prove you're ordinary, just like all the rest of these peasants." He chuckled. "Have you figured out who I am yet?"

Sir Holmes paused for a moment, deliberating before he spoke. "Of course I have."

James' eyes bored into his. "Out with it then."

"You're the leader of the army that's coming to attack us. You're Moriarty." James grinned, pleased that Sir Holmes had figured it out.

"I knew you would get it. Everyone else is too thick to see the obvious, but not you. You're something special, Sir Sherlock Holmes..."

"What are you playing at? You're biding your time before you attack, why? Are you waiting for your army to arrive?" James shook his head. "Even without your army you could have easily killed the King by now. Why haven't you?"

"I'm not here for the King." Said James Moriarty. "I'm here for you."

Sir Holmes watched Moriarty suspiciously, keeping his body perfectly still. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

"I know what you're about to say, but you already know the answer, don't you?" Moriarty stepped forward, eyes staring into that of Sir Holmes. "You know why I'm telling you all of this. It's because I know you aren't going to tell King Lestrade." Holmes kept silent. "Tell me why, _Sir _Holmes."

"Because nobody will believe me."

"Very good. Because?"

"Because you planted doubt into the knight's minds. You made them think that I'm a fake." James grinned and stepped even closer.b

"All kinds of rumors have spread through the kingdom by now. Amazing how fast gossip can travel these days. People can't resist a good fairy tale...If you reveal my identity, everyone will think you're just trying to get attention in the wake of all the doubt. Nobody will believe you, and chances are things will turn out worse for yourself than for me if you turn me in" Holmes stared down at him furiously. Moriarty stepped back, turning to the gates. where the other knights were beginning to arrive.

"Here they are, the ordinary people, to prepare for a hopeless battle..." Moriarty turned back to the knight and winked before sauntering off to greet the others. Holmes glared after him, fists clenched at his sides.

* * *

The sun rose to the highest point in its arc, beating down on the training knights below. Sir Holmes sat on the steps sharpening his sword. Two pairs of footsteps approached, but this time, neither was James. He didn't look up as the shadows of Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan fell across him.

"Are you two going to just stand there or can I sharpen my sword in peace?" he said with annoyance.

"We've come to talk to you," Said Lady Donovan. "About your stories. We just needed to remind you that you need to stop pretending."

Holmes finally looked up to glare at her. She stood with her arms crossed. "And I need to remind you that I am not lying. You two have both been to battle with me, you've seen first hand my skills."

"We've seen you fight," Said Sir Anderson. "We haven't seen any extraordinary acts of bravery like you like to boast about."

Holmes huffed and stood up, towering over the other two. "Do you not see what's going on?" he growled. "James planted the doubt in your minds because he knew it would grow into this. He used your hatred of me to feed the doubt. You believe him because you want to, and it's blocking your minds, stopping you from seeing who he really is."

"And who is he really?" Anderson quirked an eyebrow.

Sir Holmes paused. They aren't going to believe him, so what's the point in telling them? But he decided to say it anyways. "James is not who he says he is. The leader of the army we are preparing to fight against...his name is James Moriarty."

The other knights barely had time to display an expression of amused disbelief before Holmes continued. "You don't believe me because the doubt has already festered in your minds. Once the idea has been planted there's no going back. Nothing I say will convince your simple minds that I am not a fraud, and yet I am standing in front of you telling the truth."

Donovan scoffed. "You really think we'll fall for that? James, an evil mastermind? You're desperate, Holmes. Really, I thought you would be able to come up with a lie a bit more elaborate, but obviously I was wrong."

"You see? You don't believe me, and that's exactly what he wants, you're just a piece in his game-"

"Listen." Interrupted Anderson. "This is ridiculous even for you. If you don't stop telling the lies, we will tell King Lestrade and all the other knights about your fraud. We're being nice aren't we? We're giving you the chance to save what little reputation you have left."

"This is childish," Said Holmes after a moment's pause. "There are more pressing matters, for instance the army that is bound to arrive on our borders by tomorrow."

"Yes, but until they get here we want to make sure you stop fooling everyone with your insane ego."

Sir Holmes regarded the two with distaste, debating whether to answer with a clever insult or simply to walk away. He chose the latter, turning on his heel and marching off to the training dragons. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan were left to smirk at his retreating figure.

"Think he'll stop?" Said Anderson.

"Doubt it," responded Donovan. "He's too full of himself. One of us is going to have to tell King Lestrade." They looked at each other and nodded.

"I'll tell him tonight after the meeting. Holmes can't be there, otherwise he'll just deny everything." She said. Anderson nodded in agreement, and the two walked off together.

* * *

**AN: I'll have the last chapter up tomorrow! Thank you so much for reading! :)**


	4. The final problem

"Sire?" King Lestrade looked up at the mention of his title to see Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan standing just inside the doors to the council room. He gestured them in and returned his focus to the many maps and papers spread across the table. The two knights approached him, each looking both nervous but determined. The King put his head in his hands. They had always been two of his top knights, but he did admit they could be a bit irritating. He rubbed his eyes wearily. He had much on his mind, what with Moriarty's army due to arrive the next morning. He pondered sending Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan away, but instead he lifted his head.

"Yes, you two. What is it?"

The two knights before him exchanged glances, as if having a silent battle as to which would speak first. After a death glare from Donovan, the other pouted in defeat and took a deep breath before speaking:

"Sire, we have a problem we would like to discuss with you regarding Sir Holmes."

The King leaned back in his chair. "Listen, I'm sure whatever it is is really very important, but I'm sure it can wait until this whole Moriarty thing is over. I do have more pressing things on my mind at the moment."

"We just needed to tell you something. It will only take a moment, we promise." The King stared hard at the two of them, standing there in front of him looking hopeful. He sighed.

"Alright then, you have two minutes. What is it?"

"Well sire, you know all the stories that Sir Holmes is always going on about..."

"Yes, what about them?"

"Well we were thinking, that maybe those stories aren't entirely true." Anderson finished quickly, in a rush to get the words out. He and Lady Donovan stood and watched their King, waiting for a response.

"What are you talking about?" Said King Lestrade in disbelief. "Of course they're true. Why would he lie?"

"He's boasting." Said Donovan. "He just wants to make himself look like a hero. He wants everyone to look up to him and tell him how great he is. But the stories aren't true. They can't be. They're impossible."

"He's just a lair," Said Anderson, "who makes things up to make himself look good."

The king's eyebrows rose. Why were they telling him this? Certainly they knew he was very busy. "I understand you might be jealous, but Sir Holmes is a very trusted knight. I've seen him in action many times, and so have you. He may be arrogant and full of himself, but he is one of my most honest, loyal, and honorable knights."

"But he's not even a nobleman!" exclaimed Anderson. "I know Sir Holmes is a friend of yours, sire, but we have to entertain the possibility that he's making it up."

"Look at the evidence," Supplied Lady Donovan. "He's not a nobleman, so he talks himself up to prove himself. He is always showing off, but nobody has actually seen him do anything special. All of his stories take place when he is alone, so there are no witnesses to suggest that they actually happened. He's lying, about everything."

King Lestrade watched them, his eyebrows climbing ever higher towards his hairline.

"Why are you bothering me with this?" He asked. "I am very busy with preparing for Moriarty's army. They're bound to come by the morning, I have more pressing things on my mind than whether Sir Holmes is telling tall tales."

"But sire," protested Donovan. "What if this isn't the only thing he's been lying about?"

"What?" Asked Lestrade warily.

Donovan and Anderson exchanged glances, knowing that this next accusation would be met with much doubt and disbelief.

"What if," Donovan began, "He's lying about his true...intentions. What if he's working with the enemy? He could be using his status as Brave Knight of Camelot to pass unnoticed and help enemies into the city. He could be working with Moriarty, for all we know."

"You're not seriously suggesting he's a traitor?" Said Lestrade.

"We are, sire. He's just a liar and a back stabber who only cares about himself."

At this, the king stood up. "You will not speak of Sir Holmes in that way," he growled. The knights in front of him started, but held their ground. "I know you don't like him but that gives you no right to accuse him of betraying the throne. He may be arrogant but he is extremely loyal. You have no evidence to your accusations. Until you acquire some, you will leave this council room and never talk of Sir Holmes like that again."

The knights gaped at him, then bowed and exited the room. King Lestrade sighed heavily and sank back into his chair, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

How could they even suggest that Sir Holmes was a liar, let alone a traitor? His stories were annoying at times but that didn't mean they were at all untrue. He had seen Sir Holmes in action himself, out on the battlefield or in the training courtyard, displaying strength, skill, and intelligence far superior to his peers.

Lestrade remembered a time when he and Sir Holmes had been separated from the rest of the group and the two were forced to flee one of the largest wild dragons the king had ever seen. He had been wounded and weak, and the dragon was almost upon them. He lay on the ground and hid his face, bracing himself for the attack. But none had come, and when he looked up the dragon was lying on the ground, unmoving. Sir Holmes had sheathed his sword and rushed to help up his king. Lestrade had always assumed Holmes had slain the monster, but looking back, he hadn't actually _seen_ him kill it. He had been weak and afraid. He didn't even know if the dragon was really dead. He didn't see a wound, just assumed that it was somewhere he couldn't see. He never looked back to check.

What if Holmes hadn't slain the dragon? What if the dragon was still for some other reason, and Holmes took the credit? What if Anderson and Donovan were right? And if they were, what if their accusations were true about him being a traitor as well?

No, that could never happen. Sir Holmes was loyal, he would never betray the King. He was a great man, surely he would never do such a thing. Even if he was lying about his stories, he would never go that far. But, Lestrade admitted, the stories were extremely far-fetched. And they were right, there were never any witnesses to confirm Holmes' words. Perhaps Donovan and Anderson were right...

As Lestrade went to war with himself, James was watching from just beyond the doors to the council chambers. He slipped away, unnoticed, grinning to himself. The king was beginning to doubt his most trusted knight, just as planned. As he made his way to his own chambers, he passed the knight's dining hall. Glancing in, he saw the knights talking and laughing loudly together, stuffing themselves and getting slightly drunk. In the corner of the room sat Sir Holmes, hunched over a small plate of food, alone. James smirked and whispered to himself.

"Oh no..."

* * *

Sir Holmes awoke with a start. He glanced around his chambers, body and mind on alert. It was the very early hours of the morning, and the sun was only just beginning to rise. At first he could not place why he had awoken so suddenly, but he knew when his eyes fell upon a folded piece of paper on his bedside table. Somebody must have come in and the closing door woke him up. Slowly he extended an arm to pick up the paper. It was yellowed. It had no address, simply marked with a seal bearing a magpie. Wonder rising inside him, Sir Holmes opened the paper.

_East tower rooftops. I'm waiting. JM__._

James. What the hell did he want? For a moment, he pondered not going. But after a moment's deliberation he got out of bed, pulled on his clothes and traipsed to the east tower.

When he arrived on the rooftop, for a moment he was blinded by the rising sun. He blinked and looked around him. There was James, sitting casually on the low parapet. When he saw Holmes, his face broke out into a grin.

"Ah, Sir Sherlock Holmes. How wonderful to see you. For a second I thought you wouldn't come. I thought you were a coward."

"I'm not a coward, I never ignore an invitation."

"I can see that. Well done, Sir Holmes, you're starting to prove yourself."

"What do you want from me?"

"Don't get impatient on me, Sherlock." Sir Holmes suppressed a grimace at the informal use of his name. James grinned.

"Ah, you don't like it when I call you that, do you? You want to be called the great Sir Holmes, the bravest and cleverest knight of them all..." He rose and stood to face the knight. "But of course, that is not what you are. You are just a man, a boring, ordinary man like any other."

"What makes you so sure?" Sir Holmes asked.

"Because you are only the great Sir Holmes when people believe you are. When they start to doubt you, your title is taken from you, and you are reduced to a simple, average person. Why, even King Lestrade himself doesn't believe you any more."

Holmes' eyes narrowed. "And that's your big plan? To make people believe that I lied to them?"

"Oh, no no no," James murmured. "It's not as simple as that. Your reputation will be ruined from now on, sure, but that's not all bad. You'll still be a knight, just a hated one. Or perhaps the King will remove your title and you will no longer be Sir Holmes. You would be disgraced forever, perhaps forced to flee Camelot in shame. But that wouldn't be so bad, would it? No, there's a worse fate for you."

Holmes waited, and when James didn't continue, he pushed. "And what is that?"

James grinned. "You will notice that I chose for us to meet on the roof. Not only that, but on the East tower, from where Moriarty's big scary army is coming. Oh look, there they are now!"

He turned and waved into the sunrise, and Holmes squinted in that direction. Along the horizon, a long line of men and horses appeared, wearing armor and brandishing flags. James turned back to face Sir Holmes.

"While they attack, I will be here, watching. I will give the signal, and during the battle they will all keep one eye on me, watching for instructions. I will be here, ruling over them, betraying the king for all of Camelot to see. And you know what?" He said gleefully. "You will be there too!"

Sir Holmes' face fell as he realized what James was saying. "You would frame me...make them think I was a traitor."

"You got it!" Said James.

"But I don't understand. I could just walk away from here, and fight alongside the rest of the knights. You said I had a choice, what kind of evil plan is this?" Holmes said.

"Ah, but you can't just walk away," James grinned even wider. "You see, your reputation is already ruined. I have already planted that doubt into the people's heads, and they already think you're the traitor. Word has already reached the king. If you leave this tower, nothing will be the same for you. Your reputation has already been ruined. Your choice is simple: Jump-" he gestured off the parapet,"- or don't jump, and confirm their suspicions. Walk away, you will be proving nothing."

Sir Holmes gaped at him. "Why?" He snarled. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care so much about my reputation?"

"Because, my dear Holmes, I was bored." James grin faded a little. "All my life I've been searching for distraction, trying to lead a more interesting life because I couldn't bear the dull, meaningless lifestyle that everyone else had. And then I heard a story about one of the knights of Camelot, a man who's bravery and intellect far exceeded everyone else's...I couldn't resist."

"Funny way of entertaining yourself," Holmes replied. James looked up at him.

"Isn't it just?"

There was a noise in the courtyard below, and James leaned over the parapet to see. It was King Lestrade and the other knights. They had awoken, been alerted that Moriarty's men had arrived, and were now preparing themselves for the battle. King Lestrade moved around them on his horse, barking orders.

"Time to make your decision, Sherlock," James said. "Look, they're already missing you."

The King was looking around nervously, craning his neck, obviously looking for someone. Lady Donovan said something to him, and Lestrade shook his head, continuing to search for his missing knight. Donovan followed, accompanied by Anderson. They appeared to be trying to reason with him, trying to convince him of something. The king sent them away with a rough gesture, and he and the knights rode from the courtyard and away from the castle.

"You see," Said James. "It's too late for you. They're convincing the King that you're a traitor, gone to conspire with Moriarty. Which you are, in a way. Sir Anderson and Lady Donovan. So gullible. Bless them." He turned his neck to look at Sir Holmes.

"Make your choice. Jump or don't jump."

"What if I pushed you? What if I killed you right now?" Holmes said.

"Then the knights and the king would find me pushed from the roof. Dear old James, so willing to fight for his King and for Camelot. We're both absent right now. Easily they could deduce that you killed me."

Holmes' face fell, mind working furiously.

"The clock is ticking, Holmes. Jump. Please?" He raised his hand high above him, preparing to signal to his army. "There's more to it, you know. There are too many of them. The King wasn't prepared for such a large army, he thought they were small in number. Of course, that _was_ the idea. If you jump, I'll send them away. Camelot will be victorious, there will be no bloodshed. Don't jump, and they attack, and you can be certain that the knights, the king, and the citizens of Camelot will be slaughtered where they stand. What do you say?" James' face had fully lost it's grin, and he was now watching Sir Holmes darkly. "I'm waiting."

Sir Holmes' eyes were wide, and his jaw was clenched. He shook with anger, rage threatening to rip forth.

"You can't do this..."

"Watch me."

Holmes took a step forward, and James' grin returned. Sir Holmes took small steps, making his way towards the edge of the roof. When he reached it, he looked down on James, eyes filled with loathing. James stared back, silently egging him on.

Holmes took a deep breath and slid his legs over the side, moving so that he was sitting on the edge of the parapet with is legs dangling in the air. There was a flagpole beside him, and he grasped it to steady himself. James looked up at him with glee, hand still raised in the air. Holmes looked after the knights, now obscured from view by the trees. They were small in number, and they would easily be defeated by Moriarty's army. the knight's could fight, but nobody, not even Sir Holmes could face an army like that. He thought of Lestrade. King Lestrade, who had been kind to him, knighting him even though he wasn't a nobleman, listening to his stories. Over the years Sir Holmes had known him, the king had been the closest thing the knight could call a friend. As he stared down at him and the other knights, he knew what he had to do.

"Okay," He said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

As James looked on, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He held his breath for a moment, and time seemed to stand still. Then, in one swift, sudden movement, his arms reached out to surround James. Gripping the man for dear life, he pushed off of the side of the tower, and together, Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty plunged to the cold ground beneath them.

* * *

King Lestrade sat on his horse in front of his knights, facing the huge army on the horizon. He swallowed and straightened his back. His hands were shaking, and he gripped the reins of his horse more tightly to settle them. His whole body was trembling. He was afraid.

He could not see his knights from his position, but he knew that they too were frightened. None of them had anticipated an army as big as this. They all knew that none would likely emerge from this battle alive. This day would go down in history as the day king Lestrade was defeated, and Camelot fell.

The king closed his eyes. He was biding his time, not wanting to make the first attack. He would let the enemy come to them. The wait was killing him. Where was Sir Holmes? It wasn't like him to miss such an opportunity to show off. Unless Donovan and Anderson were right about him, as they kept insisting while the king was trying to ready the knights. They kept saying how he would never miss this, unless he was conspiring with Moriarty at this very moment. Lestrade had sent them away, and now was doing his best not to believe they were right.

It was odd, too, that James hadn't shown up. He had wanted so badly to fight for Camelot, and the time was now. That made his small army two knights short, one of them the most important knight of all.

Lestrade heard a shout and he opened his eyes. One of his knights was pointing to the castle behind them, up to the eastern tower. The king furrowed his brow and looked up, confused, and the other knights did the same. When he saw what the knight was pointing to, King Lestrade's jaw dropped.

Two figures were standing on the roof. From this distance it was hard to make out, but he knew who they were. Sir Holmes and James, his two missing fighters. James was standing tall, hand raised in the air. His head was turned to Sir Holmes but his body was out, facing the opposing army. As Lestrade watched, Sir Holmes moved forward. He let out a horrified gasp as Holmes sat on the edge, one hand at his side, the other gripping the flagpole. The way Holmes was sitting, it was almost as if...

Before the king had time to form a conclusion, Sir Holmes had gripped the other man and the two fell. Lestrade let out a strangled yell as he watched them go down, only seeing their descent for a brief second before his view was obstructed by the trees. The king and the knights stood frozen, not entirely sure what they had just seen. Then they seemed to remember where they were, and they turned back to face the huge army in front of them. To their surprise, the army began to withdraw.

The knights of Camelot watched in awe as the vast army left, without so much as crying out. They were silent as they left, and the knights stood frozen in shock until Moriarty's army had disappeared over the horizon.

For a second, all was still. Then the king heard his knights bellow a victory cry behind him. Relief swept through him- the army was gone, his knights were safe. Then he remembered what he had seen just before they left and he turned suddenly back towards Camelot.

He and the knights rode as quickly as they could back to the city. When they reached the courtyard, Lestrade ordered them to search the grounds and find Sir Holmes and James.

"We need to find them. Make sure they're still alive."

He galloped towards the base of the eastern tower. It was the tallest tower in the castle, he knew. Nobody, not even Sir Holmes could survive such a fall.

Lady Donovan reached them before he did, and he heard her shout as he approached. When he saw the bodies on the ground, his breath deserted him. He dismounted his horse and knelt beside them, trembling as he checked for life signs that he knew he would not find.

The two men were sprawled on the cobblestones of the courtyard, the body of James crushing the arm of Sir Holmes, where he had landed. Blood pooled around their bodies. Tiny rivers of red joined together and made their way away from the crushed forms. Their limbs stuck out at odd angles, and their jaws hung open, limp. King Lestrade's eyes roamed over the two men. His gaze fell upon the face of Sir Holmes. Blood covered most of it, gushing from the fresh cuts and gashes, pooling around his head like a halo. His strikingly blue eyes stared up at the sky, vacant of their once lively electricity. The King could sense hot tears forming in his own eyes. He blinked hard and stood.

"Are they-are they dead, sire?" Lady Donovan whispered. Her eyes were wide and she was King gave her a long, cold stare. She had doubted him, accused Sir Holmes of being a traitor. She had no right to grieve. Jaw clenched, he gave her a curt nod.

"Move the bodies. See to it that Sir Holmes receives a proper burial, one befitting of a knight," He ordered.

"And James, sire?" The king looked down at the other man. He frowned, thinking. Why had he been standing up there, with Sir Holmes? Why had his hand been raised towards Moriarty's army, as if in salute? Why had they army left when he fell? Why had Sir Holmes jumped, and taken James down with him?

These were the questions that burned in King Lestrade's mind, questions that would never be answered. There was something about James, that perhaps he wasn't the good and eager man he had made himself out to be. He would never know.

"I don't care. Bury him as well. Anywhere. Just move the bodies away from here." He tore his eyes away from the mangles, bloody bodies on the ground, unable to look at them any longer.

Sir Anderson rode up behind him, and the king heard his soft gasp. Lestrade didn't even look at him as he pushed past him towards the castle. As he walked, he avoided meeting the eye of anyone he passed and kept his head down, for he knew that the people of Camelot should never see their king cry.

* * *

**AN: It's over! Thank you so much for reading! This is the longest fic I've ever written, so I would love it if you would review and give me feedback. Thank you!**


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